"Are you ready?" Asked Morgaine.
"I don't know. Do you really think this is a good idea? I mean what if we just --" Vivianne's words were cut off by the insistent buzz of an electric clippers, and a curtain of cornsilk blonde hair fell in a pile to the floor. Vivianne lifted a hand to her gaping mouth, eyes staring wide back at her from the mirror in front of her. Playing oblivious, Morgaine continued working, shaving Vivianne's hair down to the skin halfway up the left side of her head, from hairline to hairline; most of her hair was left untouched. As the undercut took shape, the younger woman's mouth turned up at the corners under her fingers.
"Presto!" Finished, Morgaine held her clippers aloft with a triumphant air as Vivianne touched the newly-shorn part of her scalp. The blonde leaned in to the mirror, as if trying to suss out whether that was really her. She turned her head slowly side to side before finally breaking into an incredulous grin. "I knew you'd love it," Morgaine grinned at her in the mirror over her shoulder before wrapping her arms around the blonde's shoulders and placing a big, wet kiss on her cheek. She fluffed the long mass of hair left of her right, "Now g'won and shower. Ami's on her way and you're all prickly."
Vivianne nodded, then creased her brows. "Wait, why?"
Morgaine rolled her eyes. "We're going out, dummy. You've been spending too much time with that new vampire of yours. Plus, you think I was gonna let you not show off your new haircut?"
Vivianne blushed all the way up to her freshly-exposed hairline at the mention of Felicia, whom she'd recently taken up with. Her smile turned sheepish. Maybe she could use a night out.
Morgaine left her to it, going to her own room to change and get made up as they waited for Ami, who was, as ever more-than-fashionably late.
A lot had changed for them in the past 18 months -- Vivianne's fling with Indiana had ended not with a bang, but with a whimper, once they'd grown tired of each other. Ami's Sire had left three months ago under circumstances Morgaine didn't fully understand, but she knew she was glad to have the surly young vampire back in her life. Both hurts were still healing and what better way to mend a broken heart than with unbridled hedonism?
So it was that three members of Venture's house band, Wild Hunt, tumbled into The White Rabbit, a storm of leather and chiffon and lycra. Anyone who paid attention to the local music scene would recognize them, but they weren't out to play -- at least, not instruments. The trio sidled up to the bar, Morgaine at the head of their little train, and elbowed their way into seats (Well, Ami elbowed; Morgaine and Vivianne watched) , laughing amongst themselves as they waited for the bartender to take notice. The bar was busy, and they were in no hurry. The night was young.